Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

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Here's part two of my sex life coaching client Rachel's erotica based on her adult doctor-playing scene with her husband Oram. For those who didn't read part one, I advised Rachel on how to create her scene.

How nicely the coat falls open to each side,
presenting her
silk covered legs from the ankles to the bit of bare thigh just above
the
garter clips, as she lowers herself to sit in front of her charming
patient. He
shifts, overly aware of himself, uncomfortable in his nudity, and
watches the
show, forgetting to make eye contact with the doctor.

“Sir, you seem so tense, so distracted. Relax. I’ve
seen
plenty of man parts in my practice.” She smiles big, “It’s all part of
the job.”
 That gets his attention, highlighting the
fact that his wife has been replaced by this stern, experienced doctor,
with
plenty of access to other men’s body parts.

She pulls his foot to her lap, forcing the
patient’s legs to
spread slightly, as her hands and eyes move softly over and between each
toe,
then up to his ankle, disarming him as the probing questions about his
health habits
begin. Questions about his sleeping habits, “Are you working on sleeping
less
and fucking your beautiful wife longer?“

Tight muscled calves twitch under the pressure from
the
doctor’s questions, from the pressure of fingers moving up. The exam
continues with
inquiries into his eating habits, “What do you like to eat right after a
good
fuck, something all sticky and creamy, or packed with protein so you can
go
again?”

The doctor’s finger nails press and scrape lightly
against
his inner thighs now, and his big breath and small groans say that the
questions are not the main focus of his attention. But, not to leave out
the
ever important exercise habits, she asks “How frequently do you
masturbate
yourself? Have you let your wife watch your beautiful release?”

And all his short,
self-conscious answers are forgotten as his
attention is abruptly pulled to the towel over his lap. He watches,
unable to stop
the continual flow and pulsing of arousal, as her hands reach their
destination
and disappear beneath it. Undercover of the towel, her delicate and
fluttery
fingers quickly locate, and then palpate, his scrotum before surmounting 
the length of his now fiercely erect penis,
and coming to rest around its swollen head. She watches his face as he
struggles not to
close his eyes and stairs back.

Before he can settle into the erotically charged,
but
medically necessary fondling, the doctor realizes a distraction is in
order.

“Oh my! Oh, my
charming patient, I see that we need to redirect you just a bit. Look
here.” With
a stern expression back in place, the tented towel is quickly removed
and she
reaches to pluck a small tape measure from the tray.  Genital
measurements. He’s not buying the medical
necessity, but the doctor pulls out the old I
need data points for my medical research excuse.

Well, he’s got no argument for that, but he’s
smirking again.
This is not good. Her serious doctor persona bares no smirking. So she
stands
and glares, reasserting her authority, looming before bending from the
waist, and
moving the fabric tape measure down towards his stiff cock. With the
doctor in
this position, his face is forced to hover above the gap in the lab coat
lapels,
exposing her breasts; nipples peeked, unwittingly revealing her arousal.
He’s tormented,
tortured. Quickly, but temporarily, he swings his chin up and to the
side.

Peering closely at the tape measure while smoothing
it along
his shaft, she mutters softly with approval, pushing the moist heat of
her breathy
words over his penis as she shifts the tape to encircle its thickness.
Accuracy
demands that all measurements are taken twice.

This process is consuming for the doctor, and
before she can
gather herself and move to record the particulars, he takes advantage of
her
distraction by stroking a finger over her left breast, breaking the
tension,
breaking the rules.

Naughty, disrespectful
patient.

She cannot allow herself to savor the tingling of
the
gooseflesh he has drawn out, and acts swiftly to bat at his hand, “Watch
your
hands, sir!” All this messing with his business has made the charming
patient
forget his submissive standing in the doctor’s office. She’s not nearly
done
with him yet, so quickly she yanks his wrist and pulls him off the bench
and
towards the bed.

She drops his wrist and lets him rebalance. They
stand nearly
toe to toe, almost eye to eye in her heels. He’s rubbing and staring at
the
wrist, trying to remember his place in her office today. His feet are
still while
hers tap and shift together and then apart again, expressing frustrated
disappointment in him.

“Sir, look me in the
eye.”

His eyes turn up.

“Yes, thank you. I
need to know you’re attending. We’ve
still got work to do, and for this next procedure you must follow
my directions to the letter, to insure its effectiveness,
and for your own comfort.” What follows is a clear, concise explanation
of what
she wants next, yet he strains to comply. He reluctantly moves on to the
bed.
Anxiety is practically guaranteed when anticipating a procedure
involving ones
rear-end.

It’s impossible for him not to look and feel
submissive when
his ass is presented at the edge of the bed, the concave bend of his
back
emphasizing it, pushing it higher, his face pressed to one side on the
sheet,
and his hands splayed wide on either side for balance. This patient,
regardless
of his powerful masculine form, looks fucking fabulous humbling himself
for Dr.
Smith, for her final procedure.

-Fin

[i]For those new to my blog: I write on my and others' sex life, in erotica form, because many of us need only read of an example of what really is possible. It so often lights a desire to "Want to do that. Feel that." A want to learn how to have better sex through sex advice and sex education, maybe for the first time in their lives. I also intend to present to my readers the reality of great sex at any level of sophistication. I'm referred by a sex therapist sometimes, but I don't do sex therapy. I'm a sex life coach. I teach and I do.[/i]
[i] [/i]

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